Last Friday Night
by WeasleyGirl09
Summary: AU Kurt and Blaine go to a college party. It's the night of their lives, if only they could remember it. Rated M for language and mentioning of college partying. Based on Katy Perry's song.


A/N: Okay, so this is majorly AU. I heard the song "Last Friday Night" by Katy Perry and couldn't get the idea out of my head. I just loved seeing Blaine in BIOTA and could totally see him getting down at a college party, and Kurt too once he loosens up a little. Anyways, I like it and hope you do too, so please no flames.

Disclaimer: As always, I own nothing, although I do profit from reviews.

Kurt, Blaine, Alcohol, and Katy Perry

The First Friday Night

"There's a stranger in my bed, there's a pounding in my head

Glitter all over the room, pink flamingoes in the pool

I smell like a mini bar, dj's passed out in the yard

Barbie's on the barbeque, is this a hickey or a bruise?"

~Katy Perry

Ugh, what is that smell? Is something on fire?

Kurt rolled over thinking he was back in his dorm room, but as he looked around realized he had no clue where he was. Sitting up he saw that he was in a bed, just not his, and there was also a warm body next to him and an arm draped over his waist.

_Please be Blaine, please be Blaine, please be Blaine. _

Leaning over cautiously he peeked at the man's face.

Nope, not Blaine. Well isn't this wonderful. Just how much did I have to drink last night?

Sitting there trying to remember only made his headache worse. Doing his best to not jostle the man next to him, Kurt lifted his arm up just enough to scoot out from underneath. He held his breath as he slid off the edge and tiptoed towards the door.

Nothing says "college party" like waking up next to a strange man followed by a walk of shame. Well at least all of my clothes are still on.

He stopped for a second.

_Wow, never thought I'd be saying that. _

Slowly he opened the door and shut it quietly behind him. As he stood there with his head pounding he wished for his D&G glasses like nothing else.

_One step at a time, Kurt. _

Once he made it outside the bedroom, he looked around and his jaw dropped. All over the floor, among the passed out bodies, was beer cans, what looked like some used condoms (_ewww)_, a leopard print high heel, and all over the place was glitter.

_What the fuck? I do not remember a Ke$ha video taking place last night, what is that from?_

Taking a shallow breath to avoid smelling the alcohol he made his way towards the mass of bodies in the living room.

_I really need to find Blaine and get the hell out of here. Shit, I don't even know where _here_ is. At this point I don't care. I just want to find Blaine and go. _

Holding his head with one hand, he walked slowly among the bodies hoping to find his boyfriend. The guy on the couch had black curly hair, but no luck; it wasn't Blaine. After checking around he saw that Blaine was nowhere to be found.

_Well crap, I am not going to look in any bedrooms for him. Gaga knows what I'll see in there and I really don't feel like throwing up just yet. Maybe there is something nonalcoholic in the kitchen I can grab, that might help with this hangover. Caffeine, must find caffeine._

As he walked towards the kitchen, he looked through the sliding glass windows and saw that there were even more people passed out on the lawn and next to the pool.

Blaine can wait. He is probably still passed out anyways. I need some water or something.

After finding a glass in the cupboard he prayed was clean, he drew some water from the tap. He drank it as if his life depended on it. He scoured trying to find a coffee pot and folgers; he had his doubts that he would find an espresso machine, or even a kourik (k-punch coffee thingy).

_Oh God, what I would give for some Tylenol. Now to find Blaine and get the hell out of here. _

Going to the sliding glass door, he stepped outside and about dropped the glass of water in his hand. In the center of the pool was a blow up raft surrounded by pink flamingo lawn ornaments. And in the center of the raft was none other than Blaine Anderson in nothing but his boxers.

_How the hell did that happen? In his alcohol induced mind he decided to strip down and swim to flamingo island in the middle of the pool and pass out? What was he thinking? He could have drowned! How am I supposed to get him out of there? _

Trying to think of a plan, he looked around him. If he thought the inside of the house looked like a Ke$ha video had thrown up, he couldn't even find the words to describe the outside. More bodies were passed out than he originally thought. There was the Dj's booth, minus the dj who was currently curled up with some red head in a lounge chair; the island themed mini bar all covered with empty bottles of a large variety of tropical-colored alcoholic beverages; a trail of red cups and puke leading to the bushes that bordered the neighboring house; and, of course, Blaine, king of his very own Pink Flamingo Island in the center of the frickin pool.

_What am I going to do? There is no way I am swimming out there to get him. Maybe I can somehow wake him up by splashing some water on him. _

He walked up to the side of the pool and tried to sling the remaining water from his glass at Blaine. Unfortunately, he had never been good at sports and missed the raft entirely. He bent over to scoop some more water out of the pool with the cup. Flinging it a second time he got closer, but still missed Blaine by about a foot.

_Third time is a charm, right? This time I am going to get him right in the face. _

He filled his glass again, stood up, and flung it at Blaine hitting him square in the face. Blaine sat up so quickly from the shock, just to grab his head, trying to cover his eyes. He would deny it later, but he may have screamed a little too while Kurt stood there laughing at his success.

"What the heck Kurt? Are you trying to kill me? All you had to do was tap me on the shoulder and I would have woken up." As Blaine ranted—the shock and the rush of a hangover making him more upset with his boyfriend than he normally would have been— he didn't realize he was in the middle of a pool, surrounded by pink flamingoes, so when he went to get up he was in for a surprise.

"Wwhere am I? Why am I in a pool? Kurt, what is going on?"

All Kurt could do was stare at him incredulously. "You're asking me? You're the one who swam out there almost naked in your inebriated state for God knows what reason. Just paddle on back and we can get out of here. I need some asprin or something, and a serious caffeine infusion. My head is pounding."

Kurt used his best bitch tone he could. Blaine took a second to get his bearings before paddling towards the edge. By now Kurt could see that inside there were a few people who may not have had as much to drink, like him, who were trying to quietly sneak out. Blaine was about four feet from the edge when Kurt heard somebody throwing up outside. Looking around he saw that some macho guy who had fallen asleep with a bong in his hand sat up just to throw up in a garbage can next to the barbeque.

Before he looked away something caught his eye. There in the barbeque was a Barbie doll with her hair all burnt off and her body was blackened from fire. At least that explained the burn smell earlier. Kurt just shook his head, not wanting to know.

Finally reaching the edge, Kurt held his hand out for Blaine to grab onto. When Blaine got near enough to Kurt he stepped back, nearly falling into the pool.

"What?" Kurt asked, struggling not to fall into the pool, Blaine's drunk weight toppling precariously back towards the raft.

"Whoa, you must have had more than me to drink last night from the way you smell. Either that, or somebody gave you an alcohol bath. Seriously Kurt, you smell like a mini bar, and not in a good way."

"Oh great, just what I need. Whatever, I'll deal with this later. Come on, I just want to get out of here. Do you know where your clothes are?"

Blaine tried to remember, really he did, but with his head pounding he could barely even remember his middle name. "Uh…no, I don't. Can I just borrow your coat?"

Kurt sighed. There was no way he was going to let Blaine borrow is Marc Jacobs designer coat that had somehow managed to avoid being ruined in the party (thank the fashion gods), but at the same time he knew that he didn't want any more people seeing his boyfriend in nothing but his underwear. Deciding to put his jealous nature above his materialistic one he took off his designer jacket and handed it to Blaine.

"Uh, Kurt, what is that on the back of your neck? Is that a hickey? Or a bruise?"

Kurt quickly put his hand on his neck trying to find it.

"I don't know! I don't remember anything from last night. It's a bruise, look at the odd shape. I must have fallen asleep on something or somebody hit me with something. Just come on."

He threw his coat at Blaine who hurriedly put it on. Kurt grabbed Blaine's hand and they made their way into the house. Kurt kept his head down trying to avoid eye contact with everyone while Blaine, always the charmer, looked around trying to be polite, as if there was nothing wrong with walking through a house in nothing but boxers and a designer coat. Quickly Kurt made it to the front door and pulled it open dragging Blaine out towards his navigator.

Blaine sank into his seat and pulled the visor down trying to block out some sunlight. "Let's just get out of here. I never want to drink again, or see a pink flamingo."

"That's what they all say."

"Even the flamingo bit?" Blaine grinned.

Kurt put the gear into the shift and pulled out into traffic.

Well ,that was an interesting Friday night.


End file.
